Thursday
by TinkerbellReturns
Summary: Portland, 11 years ago. It's Emma's birthday, and Neal Cassidy wants her day to be special. Maybe they could even go dancing for the first time… if only fate didn't have other plans. Fluff, smut, angst. Rated M for explicit sexual content in Chapter 2. Warning: reference to abuse, unhappy ending. Might leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
1. Chapter 1: The life they wanted

**Chapter 1: The life they wanted**

It was probably going to be the most ridiculous thing he would do in his entire life. And that was saying something, since his life had been nothing short of unusual, embarrassing instances.

But _that_ was likely to take the cake.

The paper with their registration number was safely secured inside his pocket, and every now and then he would cast a glance over his shoulder to see the people inside the small studio, and shift on his feet, uncomfortably.

He had told Emma to meet him there, at the corner of Glisan and Hoyt St. He had the snack, the beverages… All he had to do was wait 'til she got back from the little store a couple of blocks away, and then casually wait 'til they were eating their sandwiches and her eyes fell on the studio behind them… to give her the paper and wait for her surprised reaction. As usual, getting that gift had involved some stealing and fencing, but not directly. He had actually paid for it, though the money had come from a little day trading on the side. Nothing too bad, though. Couple of goods from an electronics store that had gotten busted for tax evasion and was now trying to get rid of some of the stuff they had brought illegally into the country.

What mattered was that he had gotten just the amount of money he had needed to enroll the two of them in a… dance class.

He laughed, again glancing at the paper in his hands. What exactly had he been thinking?

Dancing… of all things.

But it was her birthday, and he wanted to see her happy. Not that long ago, the two of them were driving past a studio very similar to that one, and her eyes seemed to glow as she watched the people dancing inside in the brief instant they were waiting for the traffic light to change.

"Never knew you were a… dancing kind of person," he had said at the occasion, smirking at her as they drove away.

"Oh, I'm not," she had replied. "Can't dance to save my life. But I find it beautiful. Always wanted to learn."

Well now, maybe, she would, though she had just gotten herself a helluva dead hoofer for a partner.

"Hey," he heard her say as she approached, giving him very little time to hide the piece of paper back into his pocket.

"Hey!"

"I thought we were going to have lunch in the park?" she asked.

She took one of the sandwiches from inside the bag Neal was holding, looking at his face with a smile. It was a good thing that he had offered to get them some food – he always ended up with better hauls than she did.

"Nah…" he shrugged, getting his sandwich as well as she opened her can of soda. "It was too crowded when I drove past it."

"Too crowded?" she asked, her mouth full as she raised an eyebrow. "On a Tuesday afternoon?"

Again, he raised his eyebrows, grabbing another bite of his mayo-free sandwich. He could hear the soft music playing behind them, and it was only a matter of time 'til she turned around and saw it.

"What?" she asked, glancing at his face.

She realized he had that look on… The one that meant trouble, that he was up to something.

_'Like a flower bending in the breeze… bend with me, sway with ease…'_

She frowned at his silence, and then at the song that was playing somewhere near them.

"Can you hear that?"

"What?" he asked, a very unconvincing look of confusion on his face.

"This song…" she whispered, turning her head around.

_'When we dance you have a way with me… stay with me, sway with me…'_

"I think I've heard it on TV bef-"

The rest of her sentence died away as her eyes fell on the people dancing inside the little studio.

_'Other dancers may be on the floor… dear, but my eyes will see only you…'_

She saw a young girl, probably her age, swaying elegantly around in a beautiful purple dress, like a butterfly. One of her hands was holding her partner's hand, and the other was resting on his shoulder. They were both smiling… and moved in perfect synchrony. Around them, other couples danced as well, some of them faster, others in a much slower pace.

By her side, Neal had stopped eating his sandwich, studying her face as she looked past the window with a dreamy look in her eyes. He carefully took the paper out of his pocket, waiting for her to shift her glance to him…

But instead, her eyes were again drawn to the girl in purple, and she blinked, sadly. Growing up, she had always thought of many things she would like to do when she was older. Drawing, driving a car, dancing. The second one she had learnt rather fast, the only good thing she had gotten from a couple of dates in the past. As to drawing… she had given it a shot, but found out she had no talent at all. And dancing…

As she looked at that girl, so gracious, so elegant, so beautiful, she realized it might just be another thing she had absolutely no talent for. She would never be able to sway that graciously, mainly because she was not gracious… or beautiful, or elegant. She didn't have any of those things in her, and probably would only make a fool of herself in front of everyone else.

"Now you look at that," she snorted, hiding her sadness with a smirk. "It's ridiculous, isn't it?"

Neal raised his eyebrows at her words. That was certainly not how he had expected that conversation to start.

"What is?" he asked.

"Dancing."

He quickly crumpled the paper and shoved it back into his pocket when she turned her head to look at him again.

"I thought you wanted to learn it…"

"Nah…" she whispered, taking another gulp of her soda. "I find it rather stupid, really."

He swallowed, then took another bite of his sandwich and looked away to hide his slightly blushed face.

Now _that_ had gone well.

Neither of them said another word, and simply munched on their sandwiches instead. When their meal was over, it was him who spoke first, grabbing her hand as he hurriedly led her to the bug parked across the street.

"And now, for your birthday surprise," he announced, grinning at her as he opened the door and entered the car.

The word made her stomach flutter. She didn't have very good memories of her past birthdays. As a matter of fact, she didn't have any memories of her past birthdays, and that was the problem. The other October 22nds of her life had been days like all the others… No parties, no relatives or friends singing "Happy Birthday to you", no birthday cakes.

Not even 'Happy Birthday's, except for those coming from the few social workers who even bothered to be polite.

"Where are we going?" she asked, after taking the passenger seat.

And then, he leaned over and kissed her lips, and when she looked at him again there was such excitement on every line of his face that she had to smile as well.

"I thought I had mentioned it is a _surprise_?"

She rolled her eyes. _Neal Cassidy and his ideas._ Still, she couldn't help but feel that with him and whatever crazy plan he had in mind, maybe, just maybe, for the first time in her life she would have a birthday worth remembering.


	2. Chapter 2: The life they deserved

**Chapter 2: The life they deserved**

"What," she asked him as soon as they parked the bug in front of a motel and he turned off the ignition. "Is this the surprise? Sneaking into a motel room?"

"You're mean, you know that?" he said, with a frown, as he got off the car and rushed to her side. "Come on, let's go!"

"Let's go where?"

"Inside!"

"But…"

She tried to warn him that if he was planning to be sneaky, then he was doing quite the crap job by dragging her towards the reception. A couple of other guests had turned their heads to look at them, the porter by the door watched them with a raised eyebrow and to make matters worse, Neal had just tapped the bell by the counter to draw the attention of an old lady sitting by a desk in the office.

"Neal, what the hell are-"

"How can I help you?" the old woman asked, approaching the counter with a blank expression on her face.

"We have a reservation," Emma heard him say with a wide grin on his lips, "Name's Cassidy. Neal Cassidy."

She couldn't help but frown as the woman searched the computer screen. What kind of scam was that? He couldn't be serious… why would they pay to spend some time in a motel room when they could do it for free?

"Oh, yes, I see," the old lady said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the screen. "One night, for you and your wife."

"Yes."

She saw Neal turn his head to look at her again, and his eyes had that mischievous look that she had grown to know so well.

"That will be fifty-nine dollars and eighty cents, tax included," the woman went on, as she gave him a form and a pen. "How are you going to pay for that?"

"Cash," he answered, biting his tongue as he wrote a few words on the paper and then signed it with a random scribble.

Emma couldn't help but smile at how proud he seemed to be of himself as he pocketed the receipt and the key after giving the woman the money.

"First question," she whispered, as soon as both of them took a left turn and headed to the room they had been assigned. "Where did that money come from?"

"Long story."

"Second: why are we spending it on a hotel room?"

He hurried ahead of her and unlocked the room door, holding it open for her to go in.

"Because," he replied, eyeing her with that smile that never failed to melt her, "it is your birthday."

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow before entering the room.

"We could have gotten a hotel room without paying for it."

"Yeah," he replied, wrinkling his forehead. "But we wouldn't have _enjoyed_ it."

And he meant it. The reason he had got them a room for the rest of the day was because he wanted her, at least for once, to take a shower without worrying about getting caught, among other things. It was her day, and if all she wanted was to fool around in the king size bed behind him, then she would be able to. They would be able to take their time, to catch a glimpse of what life was like for other people who were on the right side of the law.

He smiled when she finally let her guard down and walked into the room, her eyes falling immediately upon the TV above the dresser.

"Look!" she exclaimed with a wide grin on her face. "We have a TV!"

"Of course we have a TV!" he replied, holding her waist as she flung her arms around his neck. "And look…" he reached for the brochure he was keeping in his back pocket. "You like this one, don't you?"

He unrolled the little magazine and flipped through it, pointing at to the title of a film he had underlined, showing her the channel and time they would be able to watch it.

"How did you…" she asked, looking from the brochure to his face with a frown.

"Ok… I confess I might have… _borrowed_ the magazine when we were in that other motel."

"I mean the film," she said, punching him playfully on the shoulder. "How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know I like that film?"

"You told me."

"Like, ages ago."

She had told him, _once_. And if there was a thing she had learned never to do unless she was willing to get upset, it was to talk about certain movies with him. Or to watch them with him, for that matter. Especially if they were about dragons, pirates, fairytales: all he would do was complain that some people _really had no idea what they were talking about_. And then he would be cranky all day long, as if said moviemakers had meant nothing but to mock him with their 'lack of good sense'.

But, she had to admit: it made her warm inside that he actually paid that much attention to what she said.

He shrugged, emptying the contents of his bag on the bed before speaking.

"I have a good memory…"

More often than not, though, he wished he didn't: there were things in his life he would really like to forget.

"Well," she replied, taking off her boots and her jacket before jumping onto the bed. "I'm impressed."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, waving the remote control in front of her eyes.

"Oh no you wouldn't!" Emma had raised her eyes to him after breaking a packet of M&Ms open.

"What?" he asked, as he sat at the edge of the bed. "Keep the remote all to myself?"

"It's my birthday," she whimpered.

"So what?" he snorted, dodging her fist when she tried to punch him in the shoulder. "You already have the M&Ms."

"We can _share_ the M&Ms."

"We can share the _remote_."

She raised an eyebrow, her shoulders drooping in defeat as he snickered at her.

"You don't even like M&Ms!" she exclaimed.

"Says who?"

"You!"

"I never said that…" he replied, trying not to laugh. "I only said it is not my first choice when it comes to chocolate."

"Oooh, I'm sorry, Mr. Apollo Chocolate Bars."

He handed her the remote with a triumphant grin when she shoved the packet into his hands and crawled over the bed to sit by his side.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," she said as she zapped through the channels.

"Does that mean I get the chocolate _and _the remote?"

"For some ten minutes, yes."

He smiled again when she stood up and kissed him on the lips before heading to the bathroom. A contented sigh escaped his mouth when he reached for a pillow and placed it behind his neck, lying back with his hands behind his head. So that was what life could be like. Stretching on a bed, watching TV, eating candy while waiting for his girl to join him… then make love to her and-

He sat up with a frown. He thought he had covered all the details for that day, but apparently he had missed out on something incredibly important. He scratched his neck and winced as he got to his feet and picked up his bag, knowing beforehand he was not going to find what he was looking for. He looked at the items he had swiped at the local convenience store, then looked around some more and spotted Emma's bag on a chair. He could save them both some time and search her things as well, but for some reason he could never bring himself to touch her belongings without asking for her permission first.

He walked towards the bathroom, and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Emma," he leaned against the doorframe, touching it with his forehead as he spoke. "Do you still have any condoms with you?"

"Hmmm," he heard her answer. "Not really. I guess we used the last one yesterday."

He scrunched up his face, clearly annoyed for having to go out to get them some. He wanted to enjoy every single minute of their day in that hotel room – only God knew when he and Emma would get to enjoy such luxuries again.

"Ok, I'm going out to-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Emma had opened the door, her legs and arms still dripping with water as she wrapped a towel around her body. His tongue unconsciously sneaked out to moisten his lips as his eyes dipped into her cleavage, his thoughts from moments before long forgotten.

"You were saying?" she asked, before lowering her head to wrap another towel around her head.

"I was?" he whispered, taking a step forward.

"You were," she purred, as she pressed the palms of her hands against his chest. "Something about condoms."

"Oh yeah…" he replied, fighting the urge to undo her towel and take her to bed. "I… I have to go out… to get us condoms…"

"Don't…"

They had always done it right. He was always so careful, so gentle, so worried about her… and she was grateful for that. But that day, _that day only_, maybe they could try something different.

"Emma…"

"Just pull out…"

"I don't know…"

"Please."

She saw him swallow as one of her hands slid down to the fly of his khaki pants, while the other undid the towel wrapped around her head, allowing her damp blond hair to fall over her naked shoulders. And then, defeated by desire, he grabbed a handful of her hair and brought her lips to his, his tongue covering hers with the sweet taste of chocolate. She gasped into his mouth when his hand grabbed her fingers and forced them to squeeze his cock, feeling it grow harder as they deepened the kiss.

"Gimme five minutes," he whispered, before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

_Five minutes. _

She felt her stomach flutter. It was not as if she didn't know what was going to happen, but this time… This time she had a surprise for him, and if she knew Neal Cassidy the way she did, he was either going to be speechless and very, _very happy about it_, or he would make jokes about it until the last day of their lives, and laugh at her until he was blue in the face.

She reached for her bag and searched for the little gifts she had gotten herself from the clothing store earlier that day, and when her eyes fell over them again, she winced. What the hell had she been thinking? Those things were so… _girly._

But time was ticking, so she got rid of her towel and wore the purple see-through nightie before she changed her mind. A glance at the mirror showed her it didn't look as bad in her as she thought it would , but when it was time for the g-string… she wondered if it wouldn't be far too much embarrassment for a single day.

"My God, these things are uncomfortable" she whimpered, shifting her feet. "How do people even-"

It took her no more than two seconds to take the thing off and opt to go back to her traditional bikini underwear, but by the time she located it over the bed, she realized Neal was already standing by the door, staring at her with his mouth half-open.

She swallowed, feeling a tingle between her legs when his hungry eyes pierced hers, knowing that her garment left very little to imagination, especially now that she had removed the only piece of clothing under it... She knew what was on his mind; she could tell by the way the towel wrapped around his waist seemed to be tenting...

"You like it?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky as he walked towards her.

The truth was that they hardly ever had time to do what they were doing: letting their eyes slowly take each other in. It was not the first time she was seeing him half-naked after a shower, but it was the first time she actually let her eyes kiss his damp chest, his shoulders, his collarbone... She bit back a moan when the throbbing between her legs intensified, her nipples jumping to attention as his eyes did the same to her body, silently ravishing her as he bit his lower lip.

He knew he was staring, and how could he not? She was stunning. As his eyes danced around her body, as he saw that little smile on her lips as he got closer to her… And the way she was staring back, breathing deeply as if trying to steady herself, turned him on even more: Emma Swan was so much more than he could have ever hoped for, and he honestly did not know how, for the first time in his life, fate had been that generous to him.

"I'll take that as a yes..." he heard her whisper, grinning widely as she undid the towel around his waist, letting it fall to the floor to reveal his erection.

He glanced down at himself, smiling as well. One of the things he regretted the most about their Bonnie and Clyde lifestyle was that they had to do everything in a hurry, including sex. 20 minutes before housekeeping, as fast as they could before someone spotted them getting way too cozy behind a tree in one of the city parks...

And then, when they were in the bug, there was the problem of space. While all she had to do was bend her head to make him see starts with one of her steaming hot blowjobs, there was no angle in the universe that would allow him to return the favor, unless he was acrobatic enough to join the Cirque du Soleil.

Which, unfortunately, was not the case. He had not been blessed with any artistic skills, and that included dancing and contortionism. But now that they had a bed _and _time... he would make it last. He would wait for her, they would get there together.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his cock twitching in anticipation when he felt her warm breath on his neck and her fingertips brush against his hips. He wanted to reach between her legs to touch her, he wanted to know if she was as wet and hot for him as he thought she was...

But instead, he slid his hands down her back and pressed soft kisses over her shoulder, going up until his lips were on her ear, teasing her with the tip of his tongue.

When she clutched his arms and moaned against his neck, he lifted her in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, her wetness rubbing against his throbbing flesh and making him moan in return. It took him all the self-control he had not to guide himself into her now that their groins were connected, his cock leaking and adding to the lubrication at her entrance...

She was breathing heavily onto his skin, and he had to lower her onto the bed before he could no longer hold back the urge to penetrate her.

After he had lodged himself between her legs, he returned his attention to her neck, kissing his way up to her mouth, his tongue sneaking out to lick her lips and explore her mouth when she parted them.

"Neal..."

The sound of his name leaving her lips as she closed her eyes always gave him shivers, and he almost lost himself.

"Emma?"

"What?" she asked.

He waited until she opened her eyes to speak again, his hand finally descending onto her body to touch her sex.

"I want to go down on you."

She gasped, probably because his fingers were sliding up and down her dripping wet slit as he stared into her eyes, waiting for a response.

"You do?"

"Yeah..." he whispered, his mouth watering as he rubbed her folds and imagined that very soon it would be his tongue down there, savoring her. "For a long time now."

"Don't you find it... _disgusting?_"

He froze for a moment, not sure if he had heard it right.

"What?" he asked, not sure if he should laugh or frown, or both. "You're kidding, right?"

Her eyes darted around his face in a panic, and when she closed her legs slightly to push his hand away, he realized she was serious.

"Find it disgusting, find _you_ disgusting?"

"You wouldn't be the first."

Her eyes were so gloomy when she spoke, so bleak, that any remnants of a smile he may have had on his face disappeared, and he felt his heart sink.

And then, it was all gone. She was smiling again.

"Tell you what..." she whispered, reaching between his legs to grab his cock. "Why don't I suck you instead?"

"Emma, stop…" he muttered, holding her hand and gently pushing it away from him. He would sure enjoy her mouth on him, he always did. But not like that. Not in that moment, when she was clearly hurting, when he wanted her to feel better, not the other way around.

"Why?"

"Because..." he blinked, studying her face, "you don't have to pretend it's fine, Emma. That you're fine."

"What are you talking about?" she snorted.

Instead of replying, he touched her face, and kept looking into her eyes, just to feel her hands push him away unceremoniously.

"Don't you dare pity me," she snarled, glaring at him before rising to her feet.

"Emma, I'm... I'm not..."

"I don't need to take this shit from you."

"What?"

_Now that had escalated quickly._ He was not sure as to what button he had pushed, but it certainly had been a bad, _bad_ one.

"I'm leaving," she replied, wearing her jacket as she looked for her boots.

"Why?"

And then, she stopped moving around, standing still in front of the door.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I pity you, I don't," he said, hurrying to her side as he stumbled out of bed, wrapping his towel around his waist again so that his still very hard cock didn't jump to attention during a conversation that would certainly not be fun. "You're amazing. I just... I just don't understand how you can believe that you're not."

When she turned around to look at him again, tears were rolling down her face.

"I could give you a thousand reasons as to why I think I'm not that amazing…" she whispered, looking at the ground.

She wished he had been her first. That until then, she had never touched, or never been touched by, any other men. But the memories flashing before her eyes reminded her that nothing could be farther from the truth, that she had done things that disgusted her. That she had let others do things to her… things she detested. And that sometimes she hadn't even let them do some things, but it hadn't stopped them from doing said things anyway. And the worst part was that she felt she had deserved them, hence not telling anyone, hence living with shame… And now there was this man that was clearly not like any other she had met, and all she had to give him were pieces of her… _The leftovers of others._

"Emma, look at me..." she heard him say, and more tears fell from her eyes when she realized he was not mad at her, or mocking her for her breakdown. "Look at me."

His fingers propped her chin up, and she let out a sob when his hazel eyes fell upon hers, loving instead of judging, trying to calm her down even though he was obviously still burning with need.

"People will tell you who you are your whole life…" he said, as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "Trust me, I know."

He was pulling her closer to his chest, his mouth pressing kisses on top of her head as she stopped trying to hold back tears, and let them soak his shoulder.

"But you can't have any of their crap. You can't let them get you down," he whispered. "Whoever said you were disgusting, baby…"

She winced, partially because of the memory the word elicited, partially because she was ashamed she had let it all out on him, who was exactly the one that did not deserve any of that crap.

"Emma, open your eyes."

After taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes again, and gathered the nerve to look at him as he held her face in his hands.

"You're not. You're amazing. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise."

There was something in the smile he gave her that was more than comforting. She let out a relieved sigh, feeling that at least part of her had healed a little with his words, even though a couple of stubborn tears insisted on falling from her eyes.

"Now let's go to bed," he whispered. "It's not every day we have one!"

He headed to the bathroom as she pulled back the covers and sat on the bed after taking off her jacket.

"Here," she heard him say as he handed her a roll of toilet paper.

She couldn't help but snicker.

"I think I ruined your plans for the afternoon," she whispered, before blowing her nose. "I'm sorry..."

"Well it's your birthday..." he replied, as he joined her on the bed and pulled the blanket to cover their bodies. "You can spend it the way you want. Even... crying."

She let out a chuckle, sniffing before she turned her head to look at him with her now very puffy eyes.

"I can cry too," he went on, giving her the packet of M&Ms, or what was left of it, "…especially if they are showing Peter Pan on Disney Channel..."

"Why do you hate that story so much?"

"Oh..." for one second, she thought she saw his eyes grow dark, but maybe it was just her imagination. "I'm a strange man."

"A _very _strange man," she said with a smile, studying his face as he fluffed up a pillow before putting it behind his back.

"Now, look," he whispered, bringing her body closer to his. "Your film has begun."

"I can't hear a thing," she complained, lifting her head from his chest to look for the remote control. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"The remote."

"I gave it to you."

"You didn't."

He snickered, biting his lip as he shifted his legs and glanced down at his lap.

"You have to be kidding me," she said, raising an eyebrow as she followed his eyes and saw something pointing up between his legs.

"What?"

"You're so funny, aren't you? Hiding the remote between your-"

When she reached under the covers to grab it, though, he couldn't help but whistle.

"I don't really think you'll be able to change channels with that," he muttered, trying to stifle a chuckle as she withdrew her hand from his erection.

"Neal!"

"But we can try," he chuckled, winking at her. "Come on, do it again."

He led her hand under the covers again, until her fingers grazed the sensitive skin under the tip of his cock. At the same time, from behind her head, he pressed a button at the remote control.

"There!" he exclaimed, making her turn her head to look at the TV. "It works! It does change channels!"

He kept sliding her hand up and down his cock, changing the channels in sync with every move.

"Witchcraft!" he whispered, biting back the urge to laugh at her puzzled face as she looked from the TV to his crotch.

"Ha ha, very funny!" she muttered, looking around to try and find out how the hell he was doing that.

"My God, Emma, what is wrong with you?" he finally burst into laughter. "You believed it!"

"No I didn't!"

"You did! You believed my penis could change TV channels!"

"Don't be stupid, I was just... confused."

By now, he was laughing so hard that tears were forming on the corners of his eyes. She couldn't help but chuckle as well, although she would never admit she had fallen for that.

"Confused because I knew you were changing the channels, but of course I knew it was not your penis!"

"For a moment you thought it was," he whispered, wiping away happy tears.

"No, I did not," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ok, ok," he was still laughing, knowing there would be no point arguing. "Now stop playing with it or it will never... _go back to normal_."

He felt her grip on his shaft grow tighter as her other hand searched for his, and then led it to the wet spot between her legs, until his fingers were grazing the soft, hot skin of her sex.

"What if I don't want it to go back to normal?" she purred.

He gasped when one of his fingers probed her slick entrance, just to feel it throb gently around his digit.

"Do you still want to…"

"Yeah."

He didn't even wait until she finished her question. The answer would be yes, anyway; nothing had changed. If anything, the wait had aroused him even more, to the point of his erection twitch time and again against his belly, as if urging him into action.

His pulse had quickened, and he searched her eyes for the confirmation she really wanted it, that she was not just doing it for him. When she grinned at him, lifting her hips off the bed so that he could take her nightie off, he saw her eyes flash with lust, and that was all the confirmation he needed to settle between her thighs.

"But it's the first time I do this, so you'll have to give me some direction," he whispered, smiling as his eyes glowed with excitement. "Something like, 'Remember the Alamo' if I'm doing it right and… I don't know…" he chuckled, "'Black Hawk Down' if I'm not."

She barely had time to respond before his mouth started his journey over her body. He kissed her forehead, and then her lips and her neck, pressing soft kisses all over her skin until his mouth made contact with her collarbone and then with the side of her breasts. He could hear her heart beating faster as he made his way south, gently licking her nipples before moving on to her stomach… When his mouth was about to reach its destination, he placed his hands under her lower back and lifted her hips so that it tilted upwards, granting him better access to her glistening sex.

"Oh my God, Emma…" he whispered, as his eyes devoured the contour of her folds, which were slightly parted to show her swollen inner lips. He had never seen her like that before, and the visual confirmation of her arousal, the perfection of her sex made his cock throb even harder. "You're so beautiful…"

She bit her lip as he spent a long minute looking at her, the hunger in his eyes sending shivers down her spine and making her even wetter. When she felt him lick the inside of her thigh, a little below the spot where it connected with her torso, she gasped: she had never felt like that before, as if her insides were burning and melting, every single nerve in her body awakened and screaming in pleasure.

And then, his soft wet tongue was gliding up and down her slit, and she forced herself to keep her eyes open so that she could see him as he parted her sex with his fingers, and started licking her inner lips with harder strokes.

"That good?" he whispered, as his fingers gently touched the nub sneaking out from her folds.

"Y-Yes…" she stuttered, feeling her breath catch in her throat as his fingers seemed to unleash an even more powerful wave of pleasure into her bloodstream. "Yeah…"

She arched her back when the tip of his tongue tickled her entrance, her muscles clenching violently as more and more pleasure kept building up. All her body seemed to be throbbing, and when she felt him take her clit into his mouth, sucking it softly at first, and then harder, and faster, she let out a very loud moan, her hands closing into fists as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Here?" she heard him ask.

"Yeah," she panted. "Yeah, yeeah... There. Yes."

He understood the message, and kept doing exactly what he was doing, something for which she was incredibly grateful. She could barely breathe, her heart pounded faster than ever, and her whole sex throbbed and tickled and quivered...

"Neal… Neal… Oh my God… Oh"

She lunged forward with her mouth gaping open as stars exploded behind her closed eyes. She had known pleasure with him before, but nothing like that, nothing like that urge to cry and scream and laugh all at the same time.

Still shaking, she forced her body down the bed to reach him, and kissed his mouth fiercely as he sat up so that she could straddle him.

Her body was sweaty and hot, and he lowered his head onto her shoulder when her fingers wrapped around his cock and guided it into her. His eyes were closed as he focused on his breathing, trying to slow down his racing heart; she was so warm, so smooth, that he had to struggle not to let himself fall over the edge. He wanted it to last, he wanted to be inside her for as long as he could.

He kept his arms wrapped around her waist, one of his hands going up to hold the back of her neck as she slowly started moving up and down, sending shivers down his spine every time her muscles clenched around his shaft. He stilled himself for a moment, trying to delay the inevitable, but when her walls contracted again, pulling him further inside, the urge to come was far too intense for him to hold back.

"Emma… Oh God…"

She was breathing heavily into his ear when his whole body was swept by a huge wave of ecstasy. For a moment, his mind was so overwhelmed dealing with the sensations he was experiencing that the room around them disappeared, his only connection with the world outside being her body, her warmth, her moans.

His eyes were still shut when he felt something warm trickling down his crotch, and his heart skipped a beat.

It couldn't be. _He couldn't have._

When he gathered the courage to open his eyes and look down at himself, all blood drained from his face.

_He had._

"E-Emma... I..."

She knew what he was going to say. _She could feel it. _She knew she should be as worried as he was, and she probably would be when she regained her ability to think. But at that moment, maybe because she was still coming down from her daze, she felt like keeping him inside her and never letting him go.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's ok. It's fine," she muttered, noticing his panic as he shifted his hips under her. "I'm not on my fertile days."

"You sure?"

She wasn't, obviously. She had no idea when her fertile days were, only to begin with, but he looked so terrified that she thought she should say something to calm him down. Maybe there was some kind of miracle pill she could take, after all.

"Yeah. But I'll stop by the pharmacy tomorrow, just in case, ok?"

His cock was still rigid when she slowly withdrew it from her, his cum dribbling down her inner thigh when she lifted her body from his lap and got off the bed.

His eyes followed her, still apologetic, but all concern was replaced by another wave of bliss when he felt her tongue gliding over his stomach, and then his inner thighs to lick away the remnants of his semen, pressing soft kisses along his hot skin, wrapping her lips around his shrinking erection to clean him up.

He smiled when she moved up to kiss his chest, his fingers entwined with her hair.

"Be right back," she whispered, after pressing a quick kiss to his lips and walking to the bathroom.

He let his body fall onto the mattress while his mind tried to get back on track amidst a strange combination of satisfaction, happiness and worry. Her taste lingered in his mouth, her sweat stuck to his skin, and now... now she had something of his inside her as well, a primal part of him rejoicing for marking her as his with his seed, while a more rational one feared the consequences. Of course he wanted her to have his children, but not now, not under those circumstances.

He wanted to be able to provide for his family when the two of them were finally blessed with a baby... Then,_ then_ he would be the happiest man on earth for being the father of her kids.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked, lying next to him on the bed with her nightie back on.

"Nothing," he replied, getting under the covers and pulling her closer to his chest. "Nothing."


	3. Chapter 3: The life they got

**Chapter 3: The life they got**

"You hungry?" he asked, after the two of them woke up from their nap.

"A little," she answered, rubbing her eyes. "What do we still have?"

"I don't know... Think you can grab my pants?" he nodded towards the chair near her side of the bed.

"Your pants?"

"Yeah. I need to check my pockets."

"Don't you tell me you've been hiding candy from me," she smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"Here," he said, giving her a crumpled 10-dollar bill as he reached for the in-room dining menu on the nightstand. "Choose... whatever you like."

"Neal!" she was looking at him in utter disbelief. "I'm sure we still have-"

"We should have a hot meal," he added, before she finished her sentence. "It's a special day."

Her chin trembled a little, and she couldn't help but smile gratefully. They could save that money for a rainy day; that would be the wise thing to do. Whatever job it was he had gotten that money from, it didn't sound right to spend it all at once just because it was her birthday.

"Go ahead," he whispered, forcing the menu into her hands. "Ten dollars."

She flipped through the pages, and settled for a cheese egg roll. She still felt guilty about spending his money like that, but he seemed to be enjoying every single minute of their day, almost as much as her or maybe even more than her – she no longer knew.

All she knew was that she would never forget that day. _The best birthday of her life._

"Yeah, and can you send a… uhm…" she heard him say over the phone, "a blueberry cupcake as well? Ok. Oh, do you have candles?"

She shook her head as he spoke, and then rested her chin on her knees, watching him.

"Oh… ok. Yeah, matches will do," he shrugged when she looked at him with a frown. "Ok. Thanks."

In the meantime, she grabbed his pants on the bed to put them back on the chair, but in the process a crumpled piece of paper fell from his other pocket. When she unfolded it, her eyes went wide.

_'Students' Names: Cassidy, Neal & Swan, Emma. Modality: Ballroom Dancing. Level: Beginners._

_Please present this registration sheet on your first day of classes.'_

"Neal," she whispered. "What is this?"

He raised his eyebrows and swallowed, faking a careless smile after clearing his throat.

"I… I signed us up for… dancing lessons," he said, chuckling as soon as Emma herself burst into laughter. "Yeah, I know, I know… What the hell was I thinking?"

She kept laughing, because she felt that it was either that or crying again, and she didn't want him to feel bad for her again. The truth was that she had lied when she told him that dancing was ridiculous. She was just too ashamed of herself to give it a shot. But if the man by her side, the legendarily stoical Neal Cassidy, the one that was proud to announce to the world that he lacked artistic skills but made up for it in other _much more important departments_, was willing to give it a try, then everything changed… And she knew he was, again, doing it because of her.

And so, she kept laughing, even though by now her eyes were full of tears.

"Do you think we can go there tomorrow?" she finally managed to say, after her laughter subsided and she wiped her happy tears away with the back of her hand.

"Well… The classes are on Tuesday and Thursday so… I guess we can go on Thursday."

They exchanged a brief glance, in which his lips curled into a little smile.

"Why didn't you say something?" she asked.

"I was going to but…" he scrunched up his face as he spoke. "I dunno…When you said it was ridiculous I kinda chose not to, you know?"

"I'm sorry…"

"Hey, don't be," he said, resting a hand on her knees. "Wait 'til I start dancing, then… _Then _you'll be sorry. And very, _very _embarrassed."

She shook her head again, moving to kiss his hair with a smile on her lips.

"Do we have to wear anything specific?"

"Oh, I… I actually hadn't thought about it," he replied, with a frown. "I think you will need a dress, won't you?" he asked, his gaze distant as he spoke. "We could go to Goodwill tomorrow… I forgot all about it."

She placed a hand over his, giving it a squeeze as she watched his thoughtful face.

"I won't need a dress."

"You're not thinking about wearing this… are you?" he whispered, tugging at her nightie with a smirk. "Because, just so you know, I do not approve it… unless it is a private class."

She pulled him closer for another kiss, and had the two of them been not interrupted by a soft knock on the door, they would very soon engage on a… _private class_ of their own.

After they shared the cheese egg roll and watched the news like any regular couple would do, it was time for her birthday cake.

Or rather, cupcake.

The two of them kept staring at the tiny, less than impressive little cake placed on the bed between them, looking at it as if it was some sort of good luck charm. Maybe, next year, he would be able to buy her a real cake. Maybe, next year, she would be able to get him a pumpkin pie for _his_ birthday.

He raised his eyes first, smiling at her as a lot of other silly things for the future filled his mind.

"Happy birthday, Emma."

She returned the smile, tilting her head to look at the man in front of her.

"I don't deserve any of this, you know."

He lowered his head, and his smile lost some of its happiness.

"You're right, Emma. You don't..." he whispered, as he remembered that tomorrow they would be back on the road, swiping shelves at grocery stores, sneaking into other people's hotel rooms, making love in some city park bench. "You don't deserve to be living in a car... Or to be stealing food... Or to... Sneak into motel rooms to take a shower..."

"Neal..."

"No, listen. Just... Just listen."

For the first time that day, it was his eyes that filled with tears, even though he was able to blink all of them away far too fast for them to be noticed.

"Things will get better, baby, I know," and then, he smiled again, licking his lips as he looked at her. "There is... There is this job opening at the post office on Main, I'll apply... And if I get it, we can save some money, find some place to stay, just 'til we have enough to go to Tallahassee..." he squeezed her hand, soothing her skin with his thumb. "Hmmm? We just... We just have to hang on a little longer."

She pressed his forehead against his, and let her fingertips run through his hair as she spoke.

"I'll be fine living in a car for as long as I have to... _As long as you're with me_."

Again, he had to swallow a lump in his throat. He knew she would, and he also knew that there had to be a better life than the one they were living. And there was no way he could simply allow her to spend her days running… just like he had done his whole life.

"But you won't have to. I... I won't let you," he whispered. He would get that job. Maybe she could go back to school when they moved to Florida. _Things would get better._ "I promise, Emma... You'll have the life that you deserve."

Her chin trembled at his words, and she was quick to correct them.

"_We_'ll have the life that we deserve."

He closed his eyes, and kissed her for very long seconds before opening his eyes again.

"Come on now," he said. "Make a wish."

She kissed him once more, and then closed her eyes when he lit the match and held it on top of the cupcake. What could she possibly wish for? For the first time in her life, she felt she had everything she wanted, everything she needed. If anything, the only thing missing in her life now was her past… She thought, for a second, that it would be really nice to find out who her parents were, or are, if only to introduce Neal to them. Not that two people who had left her on the side of a road would be that interested, but still…

One could dream.

As soon as she blew out the flame, she opened her eyes to stare at the starry sky of Tallahassee.

_One year had gone by._

A single tear rolled down her face as she put the cupcake down by her side, her mind taking her back to that same day one year before, when they were still in Portland making plans for the future as they celebrated her birthday. And then, it was all over. The morning after had ended with Neal returning from the post office with a wanted poster instead of a job offer, and the next thing she knew she was at the train station… taking the watches… then running to the bug… and then…

She had to bite her lip not to burst into tears again. _Then he was gone._ That was the last time she had seen him. She could still remember the officer's face as he arrested her, the coldness she had drowned in when he said that her _boy had told them to take a look at the surveillance footage at the train station._

Her lip trembled as she remembered her first night in jail, and then the next, and the next. She remembered feeling nothing, saying nothing, eating nothing, thinking nothing. Nothing made sense. She couldn't believe he had left her behind to take the fall… And she couldn't believe he hadn't done it either.

And then, when she started feeling again, she wished she hadn't. When she regained her ability to think, it was only to find out her only thought was of a dark, dark blur of a man she had trusted with all her heart fastening a watch around her wrist, the last words he said echoing in her ears, mocking her, and at the same time giving her hope.

Why would he have left her the bug if he didn't care? What if something had gone wrong? What if he was waiting for her… waiting for her _there,_ where they had planned to start a life together… waiting for her so that he could explain what he had done… so that she could explain what she had done as well?

She buried her face in her hands, her head falling upon knees she was holding close to her chest.

_How would she tell him about their baby?_

She tried to stifle her sobs when the sound of a newborn baby's cries after hours of labor filled her ears… Ten fingers, ten toes, it's a boy, he's well, look at all this dark hair, would you like to hold him?

_No._

She raised her bloodshot eyes to the sky again, feeling her heart break as she saw the nurse take him away, the first rejection of his life… There was nothing that she wanted more than to hold that child in her arms… There had been moments during those nine months when she saw herself dressing him for school, taking him to the park to watch him play on a swing, then him growing up and introducing her to his friends, because yes, unlike her, her kid would have friends… And he would find his passion in life and she would support him and she would never let him feel like he was not wanted, because even though she had not planned on having him, he had been the best gift she had ever gotten… And she loved him the moment she found out she was pregnant, and they would be friends and he would have a great life, because that was what he deserved, and she would do whatever she could to give him his best chance in life.

_And his best chance in life was not with her._

It was a cool night in Tallahassee, and now she realized: it was actually rather cold. Her mind had gone blank again, and so had her heart, the two of them working together to keep her from collapsing. She rubbed her arms, grabbed the cupcake by her side and took a bite of it as she studied all the unfamiliar faces walking past her as she sat on the bench near the city hall. Why, anyway, had she thought she would find him there, of all places? She should have tried the bars, the stores, the parks. And she would, tomorrow. And then the day after tomorrow, and then the next.

She knew she would find him, sooner or later.

Later, it would be even worse.

He was almost freezing when he reached the liquor store, rubbing his hands together as he tried to protect himself from the cruel Canadian weather. And it was still early, which meant he was far from the coldest he would face when looking for a place to sleep that night.

It would get so much worse. It always did. It never stopped.

Maybe this time he would go down with pneumonia or something of the kind. It was not as if he was making an effort not to. His hauls lately had been pathetic. His day trading barely gave him enough to buy food, and when it did, he would prefer to save it to buy alcohol strong enough to dull his senses, especially that night.

"Hey," he muttered, as soon as he reached the counter. "Gimme the… strongest stuff I can get with," he paused to empty his pockets of all crumpled 1-dollar bills and coins he had, "eight dollars and fifty-six cents."

The man behind the counter cast a suspicious glance towards him, and disappeared behind a door, only to return a minute later with a bottle in his hands.

"This looks more expensive than eight dollars," he whispered, studying the label and all its foreign words.

"It's on the house," the store owner said, pushing the money over the counter back to him. "You are a loyal customer."

"Calling me a drunk?" Neal Cassidy asked, with a sneer.

"You've been coming here almost every day."

"It's October, man..." he whimpered in response. He had his reasons to find that particular time of the year difficult, but maybe sharing it with the man in front of him wouldn't be the best thing to do. "Winter's coming," he muttered instead, looking away.

The store owner raised his eyebrows, probably considering that winter was still a good two months away.

"Sounds legit," Neal heard him say, with a shrug. "But go easy on that stuff," the man went on, pointing at the bottle, "or it'll end up killing you."

"Is that a promise?" Neal asked, leaning forward as he tilted his head.

"It's a guarantee. Anyway, I might have a job for you."

"What job?"

"Nothing too difficult. You thinking about going back to the US?"

Neal's heart raced at the mere thought. Of course he had been thinking about going back to the US. He had been thinking about going back since the day he left.

"Where in the US?"

"East Coast," the other man replied. "I need help taking some… _stuff _to a cousin of mine."

"Will I get paid, at least?"

"Generously."

He didn't know exactly why he was so eager to leave Canada. There was nothing, and no one to go back to, _not after what he had done_. Still, he couldn't help himself…

"Count me in," he replied, as he pulled his hood up and prepared to leave the store to face the cold weather outside.

"Good. Stop by next week and I'll give you the details."

He simply nodded and walked away, the bottle firmly secured in his hands. It was raining outside, but it was not the kind of comforting rain people like to listen to when they are in bed. It was some kind of intermittent drizzle, mostly a silent mist that only helped dampen people's moods, including his.

His feet were taking him for another walk around town. Getting lost, after all, was a never a problem, not when there was place to call his own. Every night was an adventure: he never knew exactly where he and his backpack would end up at the end of the day.

Before he knew, he was staring at a small studio across the street, his mind yelling at him to turn around and walk the opposite direction while his heart compelled him to cross the street.

Of all things to torture him on that day, destiny, once again, had to choose the one that was likely to pluck his heart out of his chest. Unable to stop his feet and mentally blaming the masochist streak in him for that detour, he approached the dance studio and stopped, looking at the people dancing inside.

He remembered it had all happened on a Wednesday. He did not remember much, though: what he was wearing, where he slept that night, if he had slept at all... there were whole parts of his conversation with August missing, most likely a protection his mind had carefully built as if to make sure he would not fall even further into that pit of regret.

But he remembered, with blinding clarity, that when everything seemed lost after August W. Booth had told his tale, that he had said there had to be another way, even though he knew there wasn't. _There wasn't_, and he had to choose; choose between the life she could have if she stayed with him, and the life she would have if he left… with her family, with parents who loved her and who were waiting for her.

He was given one hour, and even if he had been given one hundred, he doubted he would have had time to get used to the idea of giving up the only good thing in his life. The only person that made him feel real, that gave him a purpose. In one hour, there would no longer be Tallahassee. In one hour, he would let Emma Swan go so that she could have the life that she deserved.

_Even if it did not include him._

One year later, he was still waiting for the day when doing the right thing would hurt less.

Maybe next year, who knew? Maybe ten years from now, he would finally forget; forget that the woman he loved had ended up in jail because of him; that maybe he could have done things differently, but was not able to think of how that night in Portland; that she had trusted him to protect her from harm, _and that he had failed_; that she was probably waiting to hear from him, to get an explanation... An explanation August had made him swear he wouldn't give, so that he, her stupid _Guardian Angel,_ could do things the way they were supposed to be done.

He grabbed the bottle still wrapped in its brown paper bag, breaking the seal at the cap and downing some of whatever it was that he was drinking, feeling it burn his throat to the point of making his nostrils hurt.

One day, he would forget everything. But because it was October 22nd, and he was standing in front of a dance studio, he knew he was about to relive every single moment he had spent with Emma Swan on her birthday, exactly one year ago...

_'When we dance you have a way with me… stay with me, sway with me…'_

He was gazing past the window, but without really seeing anyone inside anymore. What he kept staring at, instead, was the two of them laughing as she uselessly tried to get him to move his feet in the right tempo, without stepping on the tip of her boots. Because Emma Swan would dance with her boots on: that he was sure of. And a jacket, maybe a striped dress, tights. Even now that he knew she was a princess, he couldn't actually see her dressed like one, at least not with all those glitzy gowns and tiaras and crystal shoes.

_'Other dancers may be on the floor… dear, but my eyes will see only you…'_

The music kept playing around him, and he was not sure if it was only inside his head or inside the studio as well. All he knew was that he and Emma Swan were supposed to go dancing on a Thursday, and that Thursday never came. Thursday had just been one of the many plans they had made together, and that now would never come true.

He clutched the bottle under his arm as sadness filled him, and took a final look at the window.

The last two couples dancing had put on their coats and were now moving to the door. The music no longer played, and the only sound coming from the small studio was the click clack of the ladies' heels. He saw female fingers slide along the wall, probably flicking a light switch before one of the men locked the door behind them.

And then there was only darkness.


End file.
